


The Marriage Law

by Lorde_Shadowz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emperor Harry Potter, Gen, Goblins Like a Laugh, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humor, Marriage Law Challenge, Severus Snape Lives, Spineless Wizengamot, The Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter) is Terrible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24557065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorde_Shadowz/pseuds/Lorde_Shadowz
Summary: The Dark Faction may have lost the war, but they certainly won the vote. A new law throws the Wizarding World, still trying to bounce back the war, into a tizzy, and no one is more displeased than Harry Potter. That probably has something to do with having to marry Severus Snape...
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

Harry was in the Great Hall of Hogwarts Castle having breakfast with his friends and unwinding for the first time since the beginning of the war, about two weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, when Hermione, who had just pulled a ministry missive off of the leg of its owl messanger, spat out her drink with a choking sound.

"What is it, 'Mione?" asked Ron, who hadn't been paying attention to much of anything except his eggs and bacon since he entered the hall.

"A marriage law," was her breathless response. "They're going to force everyone to marry an assigned partner."

"What?!"

"Yeah, this isn't a joke! It's sealed with a ministry seal And it seems like it's official- apparently everyone is getting one. And I'm paired with Cassius Lestrange!"

Harry stared at the letter in horror. "When did this happen?"

"Last night, apparently- Kingsley tried to veto it, but the Wizengamot passed it anyway," said a pale faced Neville, who had just opened his Daily Prophet. "Although Hannah and I have a chance at working out- I've been trying to get the courage to ask her out for a long time. And apparently you can refuse- wait, that's sick; only purebloods and wizards who are already married or under sixteen are allowed to refuse."

"And if you refuse and you're not a pureblood or already taken or too young, you go to Azkaban," a shaking Lavender Brown chipped in from further down the table.

At that moment, Ron and Harry's letters dropped down.

Harry stared at his for a long time without opening it before finally sliding one trembling finger under the seal, thinking "Please Ginny it has to be Ginny it has to or even Cho or Hermione or Daphne Greengrass- someone I can get along with and be happy with- don't I deserve this much? and then he pulled out the carefully folded letter. And he froze. The name scrawled into a ministry form letter underneath his was Severus Snape.

Meanwhile Ron had opened his own and was now turning a very pale green, and shoving aside his plate of bacon.

"What is it, mate?" Harry asked anxiously. "Please tell me you didn't get Umbridge!"

"Worse," was Ron's trembling response. "At least Umbitch is not my sister."

~S~

"Professor, we have a problem." Harry was leaning on the doorframe of the Potions classroom, clutching a bundle of papers a little tighter than he probably should have with nerves.

"We, Mr. Potter?" Even with his throat still bandaged after being nearly killed by Nagini, Professor Snape still managed his signature snark. "I fail to see what could be important enough to involve both of us short of the Dark Lord's resurrection."

"There'samarriagelaw," Harry mumbled.

"What? Simply because you are the hero of the Wizarding world does not give you licence to waste my time. Speak up."

"There's a marriage law," Harry repeated, making a conscious effort to annunciate. Just talking to the man after he had nearly bled out in his arms was bad enough, and the man's velvety voice made him nervous, although that could have been because he had so much respect for the man that it bordered fear.

"A marriage law," Professor Snape echoed, looking as if he had begun to realize the implications. "And what does that entail?"

"Kingsley tried to veto it but the Dark families pushed it through the Wizengamot in the last meeting; they went on and on about how true wizarding families are all dying out, so everyone has to marry. They're assigning a partner to every witch and wizard, but the problem is, they assign partners by power level alone. If you're a pureblood, you can refuse and request someone else...which is a really good thing, since Ginny and Ron got paired with each other." Harry said. "The Patil twins are really upset though, since they're halfbloods- even Draco's upset, since the spell turned up Umbridge as an equal. What I came to say, though, is...well...you're paired with me."

"I'm what." Snape looked as though he wanted to faint, but couldn't, because it wasn't a Slytherin thing to do. "Let me try to coax meaning out of that pitiful jumble of words you call communication. So the Dark voting block, in their infinite wisdom, made up some kind of propaganda so that they could force a marriage law on the wizarding public, and said inane marriage law states that we have to marry?"

"Yes."

Snape heaved a long sigh, looking surprisingly human. "And there's no way out of it unless you're a pureblood?"

"Yes."

"Well this is just peachy," the wizard muttered, dropping his quill (and drenching some poor Hufflepuff's essay with crimson ink). "I think I need I firewhiskey."

"You're not the only one," Harry muttered. "So is there anything you can think of short of leaving the country? Because Kingsley won't let me leave the country- some nonsense about 'the savior's job is never done', and you're still restricted to Hogwarts. The penalty for not marrying your appointed partner is Azkaban."

"Shite," the Potions master muttered. "I...there may be something. Tell me, did they say it had to be a traditional pureblood marriage?"

"Yes," Harry replied, after thinking about it for a moment. "I think that's what was said,"

"Shite," murmered Snape again- at least that's what Harry thought he said, as it was at volume too low for him to really tell. "Make that three firewhiskeys."

"Um, what is it?"

Snape stared at his stack of essays. "Get out. I need to think."

"Hold on; this law effects me too," Harry protested. "What's the problem?"

"A traditional pureblood marriage means that said marriage has to be...consummated...within a week of the bonding," Snape replied at last, "and it also usually stipulates the production of an heir, although it is acceptable for same-sex couples to adopt, since while there are potions to make one witch pregnant by another, wizards do not have that option."

"Consummated?!" Harry yelped, voice tinged with dismay. He had never even thought of that.

"I assume you know the definition? Because otherwise you'll have to make Granger define it...I will not discuss it with you."

"Yes, of course I know the definition, but I'm still trying to figure out whether I prefer men or women. I'm a bloody virgin!"

"Splendid," Snape muttered, staring longingly at his liquor cabinet and absently fiddling with the bloodstained bandages around his neck. "Why didn't I just let Nagini kill me, again?"

Harry sighed. "We'll figure this out. There has to be some kind of precident for this. I'm the bloody savior of the Wizarding World, as you seem to love to remind me- there should be some way I can use my influence to stop this. Even if I did want to sleep with you- or anyone- this law's not fair for anyone and it's sick that halfbloods and muggleborns can't get out of marrying their siblings..."

"Agreed," Snape replied, quietly. "I...I might have an idea, if you could escort me to Gringotts- I assume the aurors could be persuaded to let me leave Hogwarts if I am with the Golden Boy. I need to take an inheritance test. Actually, you should probably take one as well- if you are truly a descendant of Lord Gryffindor like James always used to boast, there might be a way..."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, every Founder's heir has five Wizengamot seats to their name, and every one of the Sacred Twenty-eight has two each, and I might be able to claim the Prince seat, in which case we have a eleven seat voting block, with your five seats for Gryffindor, two for Black, and two for your Potter seat and the one that comes with the Order of Merlin, and then the two seats for Prince and Grey. We could lobby to have the law reversed, and if you, as the Boy Who Lived were to give a few interviews..."

"I can blackmail Rita Skeeter into writing an inflammatory article against the law," Harry chipped in, "And I could probably bribe several of the neutral families- Sirius certainly left enough. And I think I can get Lucius Malfoy on my side when I tell him they were going to have Draco marry a Hufflepuff halfblood bigot with low power levels, who incidentally enjoys torture so much she can cast a patronus while muggleborns are being executed."

Snape stared at him. "That was surprisingly...Slytherin."

"Well, the Sorting Hat was almost going to put me there," Harry said, and Snape dropped his quill with a clatter. "C'mon, let's go to Gringotts," he added, smirking when the Slytherin did not move.

"I...you...Slytherin?"

"Yeah; I told it not to, though. Now could we please get going? I'd like to try to resolve this marriage law thing as soon as possible.  
~S~

Harry and Snape left through the flue in the latter's office. Snape, graceful as always, caught the Chosen One as he stumbled out of the fireplace in The Leaky Cauldron, earning dirty looks from more than one of the pub patrons as an ex-Death Eater helped the savior of the Wizarding world to his feet.

Then they were walking quickly through the streets, trying to avoid the mob of passersby who were reaching out to touch Harry, to grab him, to slip him letters and gifts, even to kiss him, while Professor Snape fixed his typical glare on the pawing multitude and gripped Harry's wrist more tightly, pulling him to Gringotts as though he were the one escorting the other.

And then the great columned structure of the bank loomed ahead of them, white marble and smooth floors. The building was still wrecked by the Death Eaters, as well as from the break in by Harry himself, and a small army of goblin architects were laying slate tiles onto the Gringotts roof, and fortifying the great marble walls. Harry couldn't help but shudder involuntarily as they got closer, though- even with all the research he had been doing on goblin customs with Hermione after the war, he had a horrible feeling that something momentous was going to happen- and he doubted it would be good, after what he had done. Minister Shacklebolt had in fact told him that he was lucky the goblins had been so targeted by the Death Eaters for being creatures, since if they hadn't been recovering they would likely have declared war against the Wizarding world. So now he just had to hope that they would neither slaughter him and Snape on sight nor lock down their vaults in perpetuity.

His misgivings proved accurate. As the two of them approached the gates to enter, twin goblin pole-axes swung forward into their faces.

"Halt in the name of the goblin nation!" called out one of the guards.

Snape stiffened, a little-seen flash of fear in his eyes, and Harry swallowed and obeyed. "May your the blood of your enemies and the river of your revenues flow long," Harry murmered the traditional greeting.

The larger of the two goblins snarled. "Silence. You were not given permission to speak."

Harry wisely shut his mouth.

"If it were up to our clan, you would be dead along with your pathetic companion," the goblin continued harshly, as Harry swallowed again and Snape bristled in silence. "Unfortunately, however, Director Ragnok has other plans. You're both to come with us."

The two wizards uneasily followed their guard into the main lobby, garnering stares from all the wizards conducting their business, considering the fact that they were obviously under guard, and that the Chosen One and an ex-Death Eater were at the bank together and not snapping at each other. Harry felt the prickling of the stares on his back, and his unease rose another notch.

They went deeper into the bowels of Gringotts than Harry could ever remember going. They walked down progressively darker and slimier tunnels, sometimes lit only by faint green lanterns meant for goblin eyes, and both wizards involuntarily drew closer to one another, still eyeing the glinting weapons. Harry couldn't help but wonder if they were being taken to be executed in some subterranean lava pool, or fed to one of the gaunt, blind dragons that guarded the lowest vaults.

But then they were conducted into a great chamber, obviously an office, where the Director Ragnok sat on an ornate chair. The goblin raised his head. "Sit," he intoned in English, and then jabbered something to the two goblin guards. Harry had no idea what he had said, but whatever it was, the goblins reluctantly backed off, turning around and walking to the door. Harry could still see them through the crystal pane on the door standing guard just outside, but for all intents and purposes they were alone with the director.

Harry shivered, and it was not all the damp, chilly air. He would have spoken, but he had no idea how to address the director, and he did not want to antagonize the goblins any more than he'd already done. The director, however, seemed to be waiting for them to make the first move.

Finally it seemed that Snape had lost the battle with his patience. "Honorable director...may I ask what I did wrong?"

"You did nothing, Mr. Snape," was the goblin's response. He didn't look angry, but then, Harry was not exactly an expert on interpreting goblin facial expressions.

"Then...why...?"

"It is Mr. Potter I wish to speak to- my guards misinterpreted my orders. Although as you are already here, and I have inconvenienced you, I may as well conduct your business today."

Snape's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "I...thank you, director."

"I have, in fact, long wondered why you have not come to take your inheritance," Director Ragnok went on. "It's a shame that so many galleons are lying formally unclaimed."

Snape continued to stare. "I...what inheritance? I had assumed Argent Prince left nothing but his connections, and I was unsure if he had even left it to me in the first place."

"Oh, not the Prince vaults- although the interest has been gathering on those. No, I meant the Ravenclaw vaults."

Snape shook his head a few times as if to clear it. "I...do wish to claim those titles if it is possible. And Potter and I wish to take bloodline tests."

Ragnok nodded. "I see. That can be arranged. Although speaking of Mr. Potter..."

Harry made a very undignified squeak which he would later deny. "Yes...erm...Director?"

"You are very lucky that that your vaults are worth more than all the rest of Gringotts combined. I could have declared war on the Wizarding world for the stunt you pulled."

"Y-yes sir," Harry said softly.

Snape turned his dark gaze on Harry at that, studying him for a moment and making Harry even more nervous. "What stunt would that be, Potter?"

"Um...I sort of maybe imperiused Griphook to let me and Hermione who was polyjuiced as Bellatrix Lestrange to let us into her vault so we could steal Hufflepuff's cup. Then we might have freed a Gringotts dragon and fled on it's back."

"You. What."

"Successfully broke in to Gringotts to steal a dark artifact and broke out on dragonback," Harry responded.

"I never thought you could be stupider than when you tried to take on a hundred dementors at once," Snape commented, voice strangely calm. "Or when you tried to duel Bellatrix in the atrium of the Ministry. Or when you took on a sixty-foot basilisk at twelve. It seems you have outdid yourself again."

"Um..."

"You bloody idiot, Potter!" Snape roared.

Harry flinched back from the angry Potions Master. "I-"

"You could have started an ninth goblin war! You could have been executed! Do you have any idea how stupid that was?"

"I had to," Harry responded.

"Had to. And why would that be?"

"It was the fifth horcrux!" Harry protested. Director Ragnok choked. "It had to go! I tried to bargan with Griphook first- he broke his word!"

"Mr. Potter." Harry jerked his head up- flinching at the fierceness on Ragnok's face.

"Y-yes?"

"Did you say that the object you stole was a horcrux?" he asked, low and dangerous.

"Y-yes," was Harry's response.

"And what, may I ask, did you want with a horcrux?"

"I had to destroy it," Harry told him. "If I didn't, Voldemort would have just come back!"

"And it did not occur to you to bring your reasons to our attention or try to seize the vault in a legal way?" Ragnok went on roughly.

"Frankly, no," said Harry without looking up. He felt as if he was a firstie again, sitting in front of Dumbledore's desk and waiting to be scolded. "We were starving, we were panicking, and we just wanted to destroy the damn thing and get it over with."

To his surprise, the anger on Ragnok's face actually faded. "I...very well. You will not be prosecuted now that I am aware why you did it, considering that horcruxes are illegal to keep on goblin territory. Although damages will have to be paid, considering that you destroyed half the bank and cost us a dragon." He smirked. "Although if I could take the charges from the Lestrange vault...and take a few galleons from you under goblin law..."

"I...that would be great if you are really offering. Why are you helping me so much?"

"Goblins are easily amused creatures," Ragnok responded. "And we can respect your prowess in breaking in and out...it is rather impressive, and under goblin law if a crime is courageous enough, it can be excused. And even I would be a fool to turn away a wizard with as much gold as you have. Simply put, it's common sense."

"I...yes sir," Harry replied, still reeling from the abrupt turnaround. There was a long silence; at last Director Ragnok broke it.

"I assume, because you asked for a bloodline test, you want to see if there are any dead lines you can inherit?"

"Yes sir."

"Will you also be wanting a heritance test?"

"Um...what's the difference, sir?"

This time it was Snape that answered him. "One only shows titles you can claim by blood; the other also shows titles you can claim by conquest or by behest- the potions require different base ingredients."

"Um, I think we should do both then, sir," Harry said.

Snape nodded, and Gagnon sent off a memo in gobbledygook, presumably to fetch goblins to conduct the tests.  
~S~

"The blood test, first, or the inheritance test?"

Harry looked at Snape.

"The blood test," said the Potions Master.

Ragnok nodded. "Very well. Stochak!"

A goblin popped in the door. "Yes director?"

"Fetch an inheritance packet, you."

The goblin nodded and ran off, returning shortly with a small metal box, engraved with some numbers and gobbledygook, which he handed to the director. Ragnok smiled, showing a large number of teeth. "Thank you. Return to your business."

The goblin bowed, shot a nasty look at Harry and his companion, and exited.

"Right," said Ragnok, speaking in English this time. "The test requires three drops of blood placed on a specially prepared parchment, and the Treaty of 1671 requires an oath of secrecy and proper disposal of any blood. You will need a human witness, however, so that the test will translate to the Wizarding world and hold up in Wizarding courts. Do you know a Gringotts wizard whose services you would like to request?"

Harry looked at Snape again. "Bill Weasley?"

"That would be...tolerable," was the older wizard's response.

Ragnok smiled in interest. "I believe he is in Syria at the moment- shall I call him back?"

"Please do, director," Harry said, at the same time that Snape said: "That will not be necessary." Both wizards glared at each other, and Ragnok chuckled before calling in another goblin runner. "Call Bill Weasley and ask him to come as fast as is convenient; he is required to be a witness."

The goblin left, while Director Ragnok took a piece of sticky, pale orange, obviously chemically-treated parchment out of the box, along with an elegant dagger. "This is what you'll be using," he said, setting both down on his desk. "Now all we need is to get Cursebreaker Weasley here and file the paperwork. So right now we wait."

It was perhaps twenty minutes before a sweaty, dusty, and exhausted-looking Bill Weasley came running in, led by a disapproving goblin. "Director, I came as soon as I could," he said, slowing down and struggling to catch his breath. "I was trying to deal with a particularly nasty dig. Am I- what's going on?"

"You're not in any trouble, Cursebreaker Weasley, it is simply that you were specifically requested to witness a blood and inheritance test," Ragnok said, his lips twitching as Snape fixed an indiscriminate glare on both Harry and Bill. "I trust they will make it worth your while."

Snape's glare, if possible, grew still more searing.

"I'm glad to help," said Bill, surprised, looking even more surprised when he saw the pair who had requested him. "Dear Lord. Harry? Professor? What on earth happened to make you able to be in the same room together without an argument or a duel?"

"I can be in the same room with Potter if it means I can get out of marrying him," said Snape, sourly.

Bill stared. "Um. What. Did I just hear...?"

"Have you been so caught up in your magi-archeology that you have not heard the news? The useless waste of space that is our Wizengamot passed a marriage law."

Bill blinked a few times and then started to snicker.

"I fail to see what is so amusing."

Bill's snickers turned into snorts and then full-blown laughter. "S-sorry," he said finally, "But the idea of you two...being compatible...in any way...much less like that..."

Bill might have gone on, but at that moment Ragnok spoke. "Cursebreaker Weasley, you can be amused at the absurdity of wizarding government on your off hours. I need you to witness this blood test, if Mr. Snape and Mr. Potter are ready."

"Y-yes Director," said Will, sobering at once.

"Very well. Gentlemen? Are you ready?"

Snape nodded. Harry murmered "Yes."

The Director nodded and handed several sheets of parchment to Will, spreading out the treated parchment on his desk. Will did the paperwork quickly, then drew his wand and swore: "I, William Septimus Weasley, swear upon my life and magic to keep silence on this matter except to those who already know of it, are directly involved, or are in contact with me in my official capacity."

Ragnok handed the knife to Snape first, who took it at once. "Three drops?"

"Yes," was Ragnok's reply.

"Very well." The Potions professor nicked the vein in his wrist with a glancing blow, just enough to draw blood, and let three drops sizzle on the parchment, where they sunk in at once. Nothing happened for approximately four minutes; then golden letters began to spill across the parchment.

Severus Tobias Snape- halfblood

Parents: Eileen Cecilia Snape nee Prince and X

Titles eligible for: Lord Grey, Lord Prince, Heir Ravenclaw

"Interesting," said Snape, staring at the parchment. "Shall I take the inheritance test next then?"

Ragnok nodded. "That would be a sensible idea, since you're here anyway." From his desk drawer, he drew a bowl, which he placed on top of said desk. Then he handed Snape the knife again. "This only requires one drop of blood, but it also requires-"

"I know," replied Snape, calmly. "I am a Potions Master..." He let a quivering crimson droplet fall into the potion, accompanied by a flick of his wand to add a strand of his dark hair. The pearlescent potion turned a sort of pelucid blue, and then creamy lavender. Snape began to stir the liquid with the borrowed knife. When the lavender darkened to a nice violet, he stopped stirring, and Will handed him a blank (and this time untreated) piece of parchment.

He dipped it in, let the still swirling liquid slosh against the stiff parchment, let it soak in. And words appeared.

Severus Snape, born of Eileen and Tobias Snape, lord of the Prince line, lord of the tributary line Grey, heir to the Ravenclaw seat, Regent Malfoy by will of politics, heir Yaxley by right of conquest.

"Hmm, better than I thought," Snape said, looking at the parchment. The Yaxley line still has some clout, even if it's considered dark- it's even a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Ravenclaw's heir gives us power over Hogwarts- we can pressure the Board, although not too much- and the Ravenclaw line still comes with a seat on the Wizengamot. Grey is helpful, even if it's a minor family, and Prince and Malfoy are old names with old money. I think the end is in sight." He paused, looking at Harry as he spoke. Harry swallowed under his dark gaze. "Now, I believe it's your turn."

Harry sighed, but nodded, taking the knife from his professor after the man had cast a low-level cleansing charm. He took the other bit of charmed parchment and leaned forward, letting three drops of blood fall, one by one, onto the parchment. And words began to spill across it.

And the blood darkened until it was as black as ink, and words began to spill across the parchment.

Harry James Potter- Halfblood

Parents: Lord James Fleamont Potter and Lily Marie Evans nee Potter (1st gen. witch)

Titles eligible for: Lord Potter, Lord Gryffindor, Lord Hufflepuff, 2nd heir Black, High Lord Peverell

"High Lord Peverell?!" Harry yelped.

Snape stared at him. "Wh-what did you say?" he asked in an odd, slightly-trembling voice.

"Um, High Lord Peverell?" Harry repeated, blushing as he thought of the legend of the Deathly Hallows, and the wand in Dumbledore's tomb, and the ring which he had left in the Forbidden forest (and later retrieved to put in his vault, not wanting anyone else to get a hold of it) and the silvery, incorruptable cloak that was probably still crammed in the bottom of his old school trunk covered in dust and Droobles wrappers.

Snape blinked a few times, lips parted as though he wanted to say something, but couldn't. Finally he burst out "Morgana's tits!" at the same time that Bill Weasley asked "Can I see that?"

That had to be the best curse word Harry had ever heard, Harry thought as he handed the parchment to Bill, and he'd heard a lot (when you hang around the twins after a couple of firewhiskeys you pick up a few things. Not to mention Uncle Vernon's foul mouth.)

"I suppose our problem's solved, then," Professor Snape went on, still staring at the parchment now clutched tightly in Bill's sweaty hands.

"What?! How?!" Harry asked, wide-eyed.

"Well, simply put, you could do away with the entire Wizengamot and the ministry and become emperor. According to legend, Lord Ignotius Peverall was the first Wizarding emperor, and his great-great-grandson Ambrosius Peverall was the last- he formed the Wizengamot and ministry himself because he didn't think his sons were fit to rule, but he left the stipulation that a worthy descendant could retake the throne if there was just cause, which I believe this is."

Harry stared at him. "Repeat that?"

"I said, there is no need to slowly build up support in the Wizengamot to make our case, because there is a legal way for you to literally take over the Wizarding world. You might as well take the inheritance test too, however...with your status as Chosen One, there's a good chance that a number of families without heirs left you their names."

"Why would they do that?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Because they are grateful, you daft boy! You saved the whole of the Wizarding world, twice, however much you wish to be modest," Professor Snape said, as Bill slowly set down the now-rumpled parchment.

"So...I should take the test?"

"Of course- if you had been sorted into Slytherin, you would have learned to take any advantage. Weasley, the inheritance test?"

Bill numbly handed over another basin, and Harry added the hair and blood. The liquid in the basin foamed and changed color rapidly before finally settling. Gingerly Harry dipped a slip of parchment into it, watching as it soaked up the cool liquid. And then, ever so slowly, the blotches of potion began to darken, to contort, to form words.

Harry Potter, born of James and Lily Potter, Lord of the Potter line, Lord of the Gryffindor line, Lord of the Black line, High Lord of the Peverell line, Lord of the tributary lines Burgandy, Valencia, and Greentree, Lord by conquest of the Gaunt and Slytherin lines, Lord by bequeath of lines Cornstalk, Highcastle, Giltner, and Bourbon.

Harry blinked a few times, read the paper over twice, and then fell backwards in a dead faint.

"Potter! Up. It's not nap time."

Harry blinked blearily up at the dark figure above him, flinching as long fingers put his glasses back on his nose. Then Professor Snape's mildly amused face swam into view, and the teacher pulled him to his feet, Ragnar chuckling in the background. Harry blushed. "I just..."

"It is overwhelming," Snape said, once Harry managed to stagger to a chair. "But you should probably save the panicking until we've solved this mess of the marriage law."

"Y-yes sir," Harry responded, dragging a hand down his face. "It's just that I just sort of figured out that I own the Wizarding world and am heir to three Founders, and I'm a little shaken. Wouldn't you be?"

"I would have waited until everything was settled to have a panic attack," Snape retorted, but his dark eyes were flickering with amusement. "We should be planning; the next Wizengamot meeting is a month from yesterday, unless the Chief Mugwump calls one sooner, and we have to be prepared, since the law requires that we be married by two months."

Harry blinked and nodded. "Yeah. Right. So, um...how are we going to pull this off? I mean, we can't just waltz in there and say 'oh by the way, I'm taking over the wizarding world,'" he said.

Professor Snape smirked. "Well, not that abruptly, but it would be amusing. I would say, unless you truly are as arrogant and attention-seeking as your father, that we start with claiming our seats and use your lordship as an ace if all else fails.

Harry thought about it for a few moments and then gave an almost Slytherin smirk. "We'll see, he said smoothly. "We'll see. How about right now we talk to Draco about using his Wizengamot seat?"

Four weeks later, Harry and Snape were seen leaving the castle rather early in the morning. Since Harry had taken it upon himself to be the man's escort (who wanted to escort an ex-Death Eater?), and since everyone was preoccupied with the marriage law, no one took any notice. Only Minerva Mcgonagall even noticed that the two of them had been wearing very formal robes, and she assumed they were simply trying to get to know each other before the marriage. How wrong she was!

Meanwhile, Harry and Professor Snape had reached the ministry, where they quickly went in, and would have gone past the security desk in their distraction, had not the security wizard halted them with wand drawn, obviously not noticing Harry, and demanded to know their business, seeing as they had entered the particular branch that had to do with the Wizengamot. Then he seemed to recognize Professor Snape.

"Ahh, here for your friends' trials? Yaxley's is at nine and Avery's is at twelve. Both are in courtroom ten. Move along."

"We're here for the Wizengamot session, rather," said Snape, looking down his oversized nose at the man. "Are you going to stand here and make small talk, or are you going to actually do your job? We're going to be late."

"That's no business of mine," said the man with an infuriating smile. "How much is it worth to you?"

"Taking bribes, now?" Snape's lip curled more than usual, as if Neville has just added a particularly unevenly chopped firetoad to his calming draught. "Shall I report that to Minister Shacklebolt on my way in?"

"You're in no position to threaten, Death Muncher," said the man in a horribly cold voice. "If it had been my decision, you would have been given the Kiss after the first war, along with the rest of your kind. I will report this to the proper authorities, and the evidence will go ill with you at your trial. In any case, if you don't have a legitimate reason to be here, you better go crawling back to Hogwarts before I call the aurors. The Wizengamot doesn't want to hear another one of you trying to weasel your way out of punishment."

"What, have we progressed to threats now?" The words, and tone, were strikingly reminiscent of Snape, despite the fact that they came from Harry's lips. "I don't think you want to threaten us."

"H-Harry Potter? I'm sorry, I didn't see you there, is he with you?"

"Lord Prince-Grey-Ravenclaw is accompanying me, yes. Now why don't you weigh our wands and let us through before there's trouble."

The man gulped audibly and did so.

~S~

They arrived in the main chamber of the Wizengamot before long, but unfortunately the meeting had already started. The Supreme Mugwump, who was unfortunately a closet Death Eater by the name of Richard Kwea, glanced and saw them. His eyes widened.

"Have you gotten the right room?" he asked cautiously, impeccably polite. "There is a Wizengamot meeting in session."

"No, we wish to claim our seats and join the session," Harry told him. I apologize for our tardiness; we were hindered by your security guard."

"Claim your seats?" Kwea's voice rose an octave as he recognized who was speaking, and realized what it could potentially mean for his plans. "I'm afraid you cannot do that in the middle of a meeting," he continued, evidently hoping that they would be unprepared enough to assume that was a rule.

"I don't remember that rule," Harry responded, throwing a glance at his companion. "Severus?"

"It is not often done, but it is not against regulations," Snape supplied. "In fact, Lord Saladin Gaunt had to claim his seat in the middle of the 1672 session due to the fact that he had been recovering from an assassination attempt. I see no legal reason why the current Lord Slytherin cannot do the same."

"The current Lord Slytherin?" Kwea nearly squeaked.

"Yes," was Snape's response. "I, Severus Tobias Snape, claim the seats of Prince, Grey, Ravenclaw, and Yaxley by right of magic," he called, as they had practiced. There was a brilliant flash of white light, and the crests of said houses appeared on his robes. "I furthermore claim, as magic be my judge, that I have been given full recency over the Malfoy line, to vote, to duel, and to die on behalf of that name, by authority of dowager Malfoy as the Lord is in Azkaban, till the heir comes of age.. So mote it be." Another crest appeared. Not that it would stay there long, as for all the dramatic, traditional words Draco would be coming of age in another month. Still, it was a nice touch, and while they probably didn't need the seat, it would their takeover all the more smooth.

"I, Harry James Potter, uh..." Harry had not practiced as much as Snape had, to his detriment, "claim the seats of Potter, Gryffindor, Black, Burgandy, Valencia, and Greentree, Gaunt, Slytherin, Cornstalk, Highcastle, Giltner, and," he shot a glance at Professor Snape to make sure that they were sticking with the plan (which was not to claim Peverall unless it was really necessary, seeing as it would only mean extra work to do and more opportunity for the press to make money off of his name) "Bourbon."

Kwea's mouth opened and shut a few times and then, finally, he said what they'd both been hoping for: "V-very well, welcome to Wizengamot. You may take your seats."

Harry and Professor Snape took their seats without another word, and settled in for four hours of observation and waiting- it would not do to speak up at first, seeing as they had literally just taken their seats; they would need to let the others get used to their presence first. If all went well, they could speak up near the end of the third hour, if no one else was speaking at that moment.

Various motions were discussed and discarded, from laws for international cooperation to appeals from former Death Eaters, and nearly all of it was presented in a manner that Harry suspected was calculated to seem as dry and boring as possible. Even some of the older members were nodding off by the second hour. By the third, the two newly-initiated wizards could wait no longer. They glanced at each other across the aisle, and then, on a preconceived signal, Harry (while a younger member, he was the one whose input was more likely to be accepted by the council, of the two of them) slowly raised his lit wand.

"Speak, Mr. Potter-Black," said Kwea nervously, using (as customary) his first two family names rather than the whole string.

"I propose a motion to abolish this latest marriage law," Harry said politely, but with an unmistakable edge to his voice.

Kwea blinked. "It was passed only the previous meeting; it is not customary to call for abolishment of a law before it has truly been established..."

"Not customary or not allowed? This is a rather unprecedented case."

"It is...allowed," Kwea said, sounding as if he had tasted something foul.

"Then I wish to propose it's abolishment."

Several of the senior members of the Wizengamot were murmering among themselves, but none of them spoke up to denounce them, and Harry knew that they most likely wanted the law to be abolished themselves, more than they wanted to keep with custom. There was a moment of silence, during which no one seconded the motion, and then Professor Snape stood and raised his wand as well.

"I second the motion," he intoned. It was as if a dam had broken. Suddenly the hall was filled with hushed talk, until Kwea banged his curiously-formed dragon-headed cane on the podium.

"Silence in the Wizengamot!" he called.

"Do we wish to vote on the matter?"

The senior members (all that were left of the original twenty-eight families which had first formed the Wizengamot) all raised their wands in assent.

"Then let us vote on the following motion! Take twenty-five minutes for deliberation."

The Wizengamot immediately separated into little knots of wizards, all discussing the motion (and most likely it's perpetrators). At length, the allotted time was up, and Harry watched anxiously as wand after lit wand went up, shaking with nerves. At last, all but a few of the darkest families and a light lord who looked uncomfortable, as if he was being blackmailed, had voted to repeal the hated marriage law; all they were waiting for was for the Supreme Mugwump to approve the motion.

"The votes have come out in affirmation of the motion," the Supreme Mugwump said, after the lit wands had all been magically tabulated by a special artifact that had been made for that purpose. "However, I cannot let the motion pass; it is for the good of the Wizarding world that the appeal should be denied. I hereby call upon my powers and the authority invested in me as Head Mugwump to veto the abolishment!"

Harry looked at Kwea and then at Professor Snape, even as the other members of the Wizengamot began to quietly express their outrage- it was, after all, abuse of position, even if it were technically legal. But none of them could do anything about it- the Supreme Mugwump had manual over-ride, as it were, over the vote of the Wizengamot.

"Change of plans," Harry murmered to Snape.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked the older man. "There will be no going back."

"What else could we do?"

"Slip a note to our favorite beetle; the common people will lynch him..." Snape suggested.

"That is a good idea," Harry began, "but this needs to end. The buck stops here; it's time I took up my duties. We can always drop Rita a line as well, there's nothing to stop us from doing both."

Snape gave a feral grin. "I admit I am quite anticipating the looks on their faces..."

Harry smiled for a few moments, than abruptly grew serious again. "So...uh...how does this work? It's been a thousand years since someone's even made a claim on the Peverall High Lordship, much less claimed the duties of High Lordship."

"I suspect just do the same thing you did to claim your seats...your family magic will probably guide you," Snape replied after a moment.

"My family magic?"

"The magic attached to your blood and line- most powerful families have certain blessings and spells attached to their lines in perpetuity, to protect and guide their descendants. Some families have a much darker lineage, but usually the magic has to do with particular trades, like potions for the Prince line, or it has to do with particular skills, like parselmagic for the Slytherin line," Snape explained.

Harry blinked a few times. "So I just get up and say 'I claim my right as High Lord Peverall, blah blah blah, and let my magic do the rest?"

"That should be about right."

Harry nodded.

"Supreme Mugwump, I must object."

Harry jerked his head up, staring at the older man who had just addressed Kwea. It seems he was not the only one who thought that the veto was not a good decision, and wasn't afraid to show it.

"This marriage law has paired my daughters with one another. It pairs wizards with wizards and witches with witches. It pairs wizards a hundred years of age with those who have not even reached their majority. Even if you do not wish to totally repeal this insane law, cannot checks and balances be put into place?"

"I, as Supreme Mugwump, must unfortunately refuse, seeing as the spell was guaranteed by the Unspeakables to select the most compatible pairings. If two wizards or witches or what have you have been paired, they are the ideal match and should be allowed their happiness."

Most of the Wizengamot looked sick at that, but they were at an impasse. Harry couldn't stand it any longer.

"Supreme Mugwump," he called.

Kwea turned around. "You too wish to contradict the Greater Good of the Wizarding world?" he asked.

"No. Not as such." Harry took a deep breath. The minute he started speaking, however, the words seemed to gush out of him and suddenly he couldn't stop. "I, Harry James Potter, call upon the power of my ancestors to claim my right, as High Lord Peverall, to take up the mantle and claim the throne of the Wizarding world. You are no more the Supreme Mugwump; not in light of your supreme willful denial of your duties. So mote it be." As he said this, there was a brilliant flash of light, and Harry's Wizengamot robes turned from the maroon which they had been to a soft, silvery grey, with the crest of the Deathly Hallows on the breast, and a coronet appeared upon his head. Then, as the rest of the Wizengamot looked on in awe and fear, the cloak appeared around his shoulders, the Elder wand appeared in his thin fingers, and the Resurrection Stone ring appeared with a little pop on his finger.

"What the Hell are you playing at, boy?" Kwea said, as the members of the Wizengamot gasped at his presumption.

"I am taking my rightful place as High Lord Peverall," Harry replied with forced calm, "and let me tell you, I'm only taking over because you are so deluded and inept." There was another flash, and all at once the crest of the Supreme Mugwump vanished entirely from the man's robes, and their ceremonial maroon drained out like dye being washed from a cloak, until his robes were a simple white.

Another flash, and the chair that Harry had recently vacated bubbled and swelled into a throne of gold, etched, once again, with the symbol of the Hallows. And Harry claimed his throne.


	2. Epilogue

A year and a half had passed since Harry James Potter had ascended to the Peverall throne. Many social reforms had been pushed through, such as werewolf rights, laws against house elf abuse, laws prohibiting the use of some truly dark spells and rituals and taking others off the dark list, and so on, and (for a man who hated attention) Harry seemed to be doing quite well at that ruling thing.

But today, for once, he was not in his throne room. He was checking out an anomaly in his Gringotts papers.

It had been something of a surprise to get a call from his account manager that morning, seeing as he had just been to Gringotts the day before, but he dutifully went, (actually rather grateful that it had come up, considering that he was supposed to be doing a press release; if there was one thing he hated more than being gossiped about, it was having to talk to the press).

"Rustgold, what was it you wanted to speak to me about?" Harry asked sitting down in front of his desk in his usual chair.

Rustgold summoned a tea service and biscuits, which wasn't a good sign, as goblins didn't tend to care about the physical comfort of their customers. They were polite, but curt. They did not usually offer one tea and biscuits. Not only that, but the account manager looked amused, and Harry suppressed a shudder. It was almost never a good thing when a goblin was amused by something.

Rustgold got straight to the point. "It seems that there is a marriage contract in your line, and only now have all the terms necessary to activate it been met."

"A marriage contract?" asked Harry faintly. "What does this mean for me? I mean, beside the fact that I have to marry," he added at the look the goblin shot him.

"Well, the Peverall line is older than the Prince line, so you would be the dominant partner, although normally the older partner would be the dominant one. You may keep your name and force him to change his or hyphenate them, and he would have to take the potions necessary to give you an heir. And-"

"Whoa, wait, slow down!" Harry broke in. "The Prince line?"

"Yes Mr. Potter."

"But that would mean-"

"Would mean your prospective partner is Severus Tobias Snape, yes." He paused.

Harry was shaken. "I...why has it only come into effect now?"

"Your father and your grandfather, James and Fleamont Potter, did not take up the Peverall mantle; in fact, the line had been without a claimant for a thousand years. And the Princes had other contracts and obligations. Besides, Mr. Snape was not able to claim the right to the Prince line as long as he wore the Dark Mark, and after it vanished he did not come in to take his titles until last year. The additional year was necessary for processing, and on; it is the time traditionally used to go over the contract and make wedding plans, or break it, if any of the clauses were breached."

"I...can it be invalidated or anything?"

"You can take other spouses," the goblin suggested. He looked entirely too pleased about the whole affair. "You can take as many wives, or consorts, as you have titles, although that is generally considered overkill in the modern era..."

"There isn't just any clause that can break it entirely?"

"Why do you think the name's been unclaimed for so long? The Peverall who wrote the contract, Lord Heracles Peverall, was going to match his son to Argent Prince's daughter, as something of a business deal. But then the daughter died, and the foolish man, who thought he had made the plan foolproof by sealing any possible loopholes, found himself betrothed to Argent Prince himself. He had a wife and was naturally appaled, so he gave up the title and it's been dormant since."

Harry gulped. "How much longer do I have, and what are the penalties if I refuse?"

"You would be stripped of your magic, and so would your partner. You have eight days; I'm not sure why you left it for so long. Ordinarily one would check for contracts like this when he or she takes a title."

"Can't I just give up the title?"

"You can if you want to be squibbed...since you directly claimed the Peverall throne, there's no way to give up the name without losing your magic."

"Oh, dear Merlin," Harry muttered. "Does the marriage have to be...consummated, or could you blood adopt an heir or use potions?"

"Let me see." The goblin shuffled through the stack of papers he had been carrying. "It doesn't say, which likely means that it's from a time when blood adoption was not acceptable and the other methods had not been invented yet."

The young wizard sitting in front of the goblin's desk facepalmed. "Oh, dear Merlin. Severus is not going to like this."

The two of them went over the papers for a long time as the tea grew cold, Rustgold explaining the bits that Harry had difficulty with, but no convenient loophole or fine print afforded itself. At last Harry got up, shakily thanked the goblin, and left to talk to Professor Snape.

Behind, in his office, Rustgold was looking after him and snickering faintly.

"That was too cruel," commented a voice from the doorway. It was Director Ragnok. "I presume you stretched the truth a little? Lord Peverall just left, looking like someone stole his crup."

"He deserves it, after the stunt he pulled two years ago. Bloody wizard!" was Rustgold's retort. "And it was funny. I'll put the memory in a pensive for you- the look on his face was priceless."

"What did you say?"

"I implied that there was no way out," was Rustgold's reply. He paused to crunch on one of the biscuits Harry had been too emotional to eat and snickered again. "He'll figure it out eventually, or Mr. Snape will when they go over the contract together. I'm certainly not telling him, unless he asks directly."

Ragnok laughed heartily. "It was not very professional of you," he commented.

"Hey, I didn't do anything wrong. I can just say a couple of the pages stuck together and I missed a detail."

"Five galleons says that he doesn't give you that raise. And this is off the record."

"Taken, M'lord."

Meanwhile, in his manor in Wales, Harry had his head stuck through the floo. "Um, well, you see, Professor, there seems to be a marriage contract. A marriage contract between the first available member of the house Prince and the house Potter. Can you come through?"

"A moment," Snape replied heavily. "I'm not nearly drunk enough for this."

The End


End file.
